The Wandering Dead
by Hammer Smashed Pat
Summary: Lar makes a daring attept to escape from the horror that is chasing him.


Lar nearly dove headfirst through the door, but twisted the knob at the last second and fell through shoulder-first into the dust. Without pause, he sprung to his feet and slammed the door behind him. The terrifically unsettled cloud was visible in the beams of sunlight coarsing through dirty glass, the particles floating lazily and without a care. The silence and antiquity of the room didn't help calm Lar down one bit, though. For although he had made it down the road and into this abandoned farmhouse, he knew it wouldn't be long until the smell of his blood and sweat brought them directly to his doorstep.

The first order of business was to barricade the door. Lar scanned the room for anything at all that would buy him a few seconds should they try to break in. Of course they will, he thought, and grabbed hold of a heavily weighted rain barrel and rocked it into place against the entrance. He was relieved to find a staircase in the far left corner of the room. Anything that can buy time or another hiding space, he thought. Actually, food and water wouldn't be bad either, but he had to keep those thoughts far out of his mind. It had been a whole day now without fresh food and clean water was a scarcity; he had managed to inhale a few gulps from a murky run-off after gaining a significant lead from his pursuants. Never mind that now. Lar had to secure a safe hiding spot for the evening; the sun was going to set soon and he needed to bury himself as deep as he could in the blankets and burlap sacks that littered the top floor of the house and try to get some rest.

A pronounced bang snapped Lar out of a deep slumber. His eyes shot open wide and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest like a hammer. The fresh morning sunlight poured in through a nearby window. Lar had slept surprisingly well that night, likely brought on by the exhaustion from his marathon escape run the previous day. He quickly sat up, his mind now on full alert. What was that noise? It was muffled, probably outside. But whatever was outside could soon be inside and he knew he had to get a grip on the situation. Slowly bringing himself to his feet, Lar edged his way to the window, taking great care to make every footstep silent. As he neared the dirt laden hatch, he crouched down, figuring that the less they saw of him the better. His fingertips settled into the dust of the ledge as he eased his face up to the glass. His eyes widened in horror as he looked to the ground below.

They had found him again, and much sooner than he had anticipated. There were hundreds of them now, all gnarled hands and gnashing teeth, all clawing and clamoring to get a closer position by his front door. He had seen them numerous times now, so it wasn't their pale faces but the sheer numbers that floored him; it was as if someone had passed out a dinner invitation and the party was just getting started. He jumped at the sound of a second bang from below, but couldn't make out its origin. Somewhere in that crowd...but where? It was impossible to isolate the sound with the low, agonizing moan amplified a thousand times in the air. Good Lord, Lar had to think quick and he knew it. It was difficult to piece together a plan, knowing that in seconds he would have to act on it with no rehearsal in order to save his own life. He couldnt go downstairs or they'd smell him and tear down the walls. The roof didn't seem like a safe or practical place to be, so then where? Where? His throat tightened slightly as he thought of the dwindling possibilities. Calm down, now. Calm down. This isn't the end of the world. Lar had to chuckle at his own thoughts. Of course this is the end of the world. It was in full swing as far as he could tell. Just then, another loud bang came from the pulsing mass below.

Lar paced the floor, trying to think of a way out of the house. It was a desperate move barricading himself in here in the first place, and it was going to take another desperate move to get himself out now. He wondered what the point of getting out was anyway, considering that there wasn't a single place in the world to go where they couldn't be found. It had been two weeks now since Lar woke to the sound of blazing sirens and the screaming, car horns and breaking glass. And that moaning, that awful moaning. He didn't need to fight his way out that day. Luckily he slipped out the back door as they came crashing in through the front. He hadn't needed to hurt anyone either, but as he ran he saw plenty of atrocities around him. So many burning homes. People fighting them off any way they could; he saw a man take one's head clean off with a shotgun, and another with an aluminum baseball bat. Knives, frying pans, gasoline, and even horseshoes as weapons...he had seen it all as he ran from his town to the countryside and beyond. There wasn't time to consider the nature of these murderous attacks, as strange as they seemed to him now in recollection. Instinct drove Lar far from his home, his desire to survive stronger than his need to stay and defend his land.


End file.
